Maybe
by Wolf By Night
Summary: Roy has fallen asleep on the job - again. Just some silly Royai fluff.


**A/N**: This was written to fill a fic request (which I didn't even manage to do, ha) and as a result I've discovered that I probably just shouldn't write Royai ever because I'm terrible at it. So just fair warning I guess.

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Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was feeling quite satisfied with herself.

With an expression that greatly resembled the animal she was named after, she surveyed her comrades as they sat quietly, finally calmed and concentrating on their work. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether she was overseeing men of the military, or babysitting toddlers.

They had come in particularly rowdy this morning, having gone out drinking with their superior the night before and still loudly laughing and joking to each other about the night's frivolities. It had taken her a good half an hour to get them to quiet down and focus on their work, for even her fiercest glares had not worked the way they usually did. Trying to get these men to actually do their work was perhaps the hardest part of her job.

Which reminded her of the worst of them all, and she looked over at Colonel Roy Mustang just in time to see his head loll to meet the surface of his desk. She tensed, knowing what came next, and that there was nothing she could do to stop it; and sure enough, the snickers began.

"Guess the Colonel partied a little too hard last night," Havoc's cocky voice piped, and the others brayed with laughter at a memory she could not take part in.

"Maybe we should bring him a pillow, we wouldn't want a superior officer to have to rest his head on such a hard surface," Breda snarked, kicking his feet up on his desk and folding his hands behind his head.

Slowly, Riza's stern eyes drifted away from her sleeping superior and rolled over her comrades, who fell silent one by one as her eyes landed on each of them in turn. The cheeky grins on their faces, however, told her they wouldn't be silent for long. With a long-suffering sigh, she turned to look at the Colonel again, wondering not for the first time - nor the second, nor the tenth - what on earth she was going to do with him.

"Colonel."

He gave a grunt, and his head rolled to the side, but he was still soundly asleep on his paperwork, and Riza rolled her eyes in exasperation. This was becoming an everyday occurrence; if he wasn't falling asleep on his desk, he was slacking off, or goofing off, and finding any excuse to not have to do the boring part of his job. She was running out of ways to get him back on task. Her job was definitely more like babysitting toddlers.

"Colonel." There was still no response.

Annoyed, Riza drew herself up straight and pulled her gun from her holster. There was a cry of alarm from her comrades behind her, and she had no doubt they thought she had finally snapped. Slowly, she raised it up above her head, eyes on the dark haired alchemist, and after a short pause, she let it drop from her hands to the desk below.

The loud crack of heavy metal on polished wood sent Roy leaping from his seat, and the uproarious laughter from behind her made the corners of her mouth lift, just slightly.

Mustang was glaring at her now - or at least, she assumed he was trying to glare at her, but really it just looked more like a pout. Riza's expression did not change from its usual stern aloofness, but there was a distinct twinkle about them.

"Lieutenant! What if that had gone off?" the alchemist cried indignantly. Riza raised a brow.

"The safety was on, sir," was her blunt reply. Mustang, looking flustered, glared at his laughing subordinates and straightened himself in his seat. His lieutenant merely returned to her own desk, feeling quite pleased with herself, and knowing that he would finally force himself to focus on his work.

Later, when they had been dismissed and she was the last of the team to head for the door, she turned to look at her handsome superior with a small smile on her face. He looked up at her with a raised brow. "Lieutenant?"

"I just wanted to apologize for the gun incident, sir," she said, and Mustang shook his head.

"Maybe next time you can stick with just scolding me," he replied with a jovial gleam in his eyes, and she knew she was forgiven. Her brown eyes met his, and she was lost in the blackness of them.

"Maybe." She gave him a grin that would have been unnoticeable to anyone else, a grin that told him not to get his hopes up, and turned back to open the door. "Who knows, sir," she added as she stepped through the doorway, "maybe next time I'll even join you for a drink."

She could feel the hot burn of his eyes on her back even when she had left the Central Command building, and it was only then that she let herself truly smile.


End file.
